Song of High Winds. 

a violent wind had risen 
the clouds rose and flew ... 

my arm has uprooted the mountains 
my breath covered the universe ... 

this time became painful to me 
My horse is no longer good looks 
if my horse has lost its allure 
what am I going to try again ..... 

My prestige has become the world 
and I return to native soil. 
where will I find heroes 
to keep the four horizons? 

-- Hiang Yu (-232 -202) 


"The Space Race. The glorious days of Cold War(s). Sky wasn't a limit anymore. Imperialists/militarists brought their petty arguments into space, robbing Humanity of its last hope, its last dream. Nothing has changed: now they're taking us to Mars, now they're observing galaxies, paving their devious ways to exoplanets. What extremes of insane hubris lead them to think they'll set foot on it to exert their monetarized power one day, as if the state of their non-civilization would last for ever and ever, as if they wouldn't meet their extinction (and ours, hence) before the XXIInd Century? Science is money, space is money, ultimately: void is money. They're killing Sun Ra, our prophet, a second time. Space is not the place anymore. Nowhere is the place anymore."